


Leaving

by ivyandocean (JarOfMoonshine)



Series: Scenes at the End of the World [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reunion, emotional porch pseudo-snuggles, trauma reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JarOfMoonshine/pseuds/ivyandocean
Summary: Since Beth had found her way to the ASZ and her family, she had been plagued with nightmares.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of vignettes (Scenes at the End of the World) that will explore Beth and Daryl's relationship. This series takes place in a post-Negan world, where certain characters we loved and lost on the show are still alive, because I can. Ratings will vary per story.

The moon had risen high, casting a glow over her body which had finally finished emitting its little tremors.  She was nestled in his arms on the front porch of the house, and Daryl absentmindedly stroked her hair as the stillness settled in around them.  Her sobs had died down a good time ago, reduced to the occasional heave of her shoulders and strong sniffling, until finally she was quiet.  Daryl thought she must have fallen asleep, so he sat as still as possible, holding her small frame in place against him.  

It had been two weeks of this routine.  Since Beth had found her way to the ASZ and her family, she had been plagued with nightmares.  Each night she’d end up on the porch of Maggie and Glenn’s, crying and looking up at the moon, and each night Daryl found himself listening intently for the sounds of her.   He would slip out of the house he stayed at with Rick and ease himself quietly up onto the porch steps.  She’d look up at him and cry harder and he’d take her into his arms wordlessly.  Some nights her crying would ease within minutes and they’d spend the night huddled on the steps waiting for morning, half sleeping.  Other nights, like tonight, Beth’s tears would keep coming and all Daryl could do was hold her tight and whisper little things in her ear as he rubbed her back.  “S’fine, girl, you’re fine now.  You’re home.  I got you.”

The moonlight glittered on the pavement that stretched in front of the houses, catching on the smoother pieces of the road.  Daryl kept one arm around Beth and fiddled with the strings of his crossbow while his thoughts continued to swirl.  It was a warm evening, later in the summer by their guesses, and despite the sweat gathering on his brow, he welcomed the feeling of Beth so close to him.  Still, his body could only take so much of sitting in one position before his limbs began to protest.  Daryl finally shifted his body to take some of the weight of her off his leg, which had long ago turned numb.  As the pins and needles feeling took over he flinched and felt Beth stir.

“I can’t stay here, Daryl.”  Maybe she hadn’t been sleeping after all.  

He took in a slow, deep breathe not exactly sure of what to make of her words.  

Every day since she had shown up at the gates with Heath and Tara’s group he’d been afraid to question anything.  She was alive when he had seen her die.  Death before the turn was one of the few black and white things in life.  Either you were, or you weren’t.  He himself had laid her body in that trunk and let his family pull him away from her because she had died.  She was dead.  Was any of this real, he wondered, or had his grief finally sent him spinning over that edge?  As it turned out this girl defied that certainty.  She had only been a little bit dead, and then she was very much  _ alive _ .  

After a few days (and long nights of holding her) he finally let it sink in that she had indeed come back to him.  He didn’t try speak to her or ask anything of her, didn’t even interact with her outside of their nightly ritual.  The others took care of that.  He knew she’d been to see Denise; that Maggie and Rick had taken their time getting the full story out of her over the course of several days.  She didn’t cry around anyone else, at least not according to what Rick had told him.  

“It’s a goddamn miracle and I don’t know how…fuck Daryl, I don’t know how she made it through what she did.  She doesn’t cry.  She’s telling us these things and  _ she doesn’t break _ .  Maggie’s been worried about that, but I figure maybe it’s just her way now,” Rick paused,  “after everything.”

Rick had proceeded to try and fill Daryl in on what they’d managed to glean from a stoic Beth.  Some parts he’d tuned out, other times he’d put his hands up and walked away.  There were some things he couldn’t handle hearing, knowing he’d never be able to take away whatever had happened.  He hadn’t been there.  Not the first time when he’d run all night and she was just gone.  Not the second time either.  He’d come so close to being there, his body in the hallway, his gun in his hand, but again it hadn’t been enough.  

_ Maybe I coulda done somethin’. _

“Daryl?” she pulled herself up slowly from where she had been curled in a little ball against his thigh, bringing him out of his thoughts.  He slid his hand up her back in response until it rested on shoulder, thumb absentmindedly stroking her neck.  Bruises were gone now, but somehow he could still see them.

She met his gaze then, “Daryl, I can’t stay.” 

“I know,” he paused, steeling his nerves,  “Ain’t gotta leave tonight though, Beth.  Hell, ain’t really gotta leave at all.”  Daryl slid his hand over hers where they were curled together in her lap, his left hand still anchoring her, bits of her blonde hair tangled in his fingers and he continued to rub her shoulder softly.

“I know they told you… I know you know about-“

Daryl gripped her thin hands in his larger one. “Don’t matter girl,” his voice stern as he looked directly into her eyes.  She needed to know that whatever happened didn’t change how he saw her.

“It does matter though, that’s the thing.  I-I’m not like how I was,” her voice cracked, a sob forming in her throat.  Daryl gathered her against his chest and held her tight.  He could feel her small frame begin to shake again, her tears already soaking his shirt.

“Hey, hey shhh, s’okay.” Whispering more comforting things, anything he could think of to ease a bit of her sadness.  All the while knowing full well it was going to take more than just kindness and a back rub.

He thought for awhile, then in a low voice spoke again, “‘While back I was out huntin’, way out between here and Hilltop.  Came across this little house, well, more of a shack really.”

Beth lifted her head from his chest, rubbing the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Daryl continued, “Got caught out there when a smaller herd came through.  I was on my own, just prayin’ for a good place to hide in for a bit.  And there it was.”  

He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, stopping to smooth the tear tracks from her cheeks with his thumb.  Her breathing hitched, but she didn’t seem to be crying anymore, so he kept on.

“Didn’t even have time to really sweep the place, just opened the door and hoped like hell I wouldn’t find anyone or anything worse than all them walkers.”  

Beth was sitting up now, looking out into the street as Daryl spoke.  “Took hours for ‘em to pass.  The place stank, full of dust and god knows what else.  It was hot as hell, too.”

He shifted, nudging her shoulder with his until she looked back at him, “Wanna know the worst part?” he paused, biting his lip, “It reminded me of you.”

She was silent, confusion playing over her features, then her face softened and he knew then that she remembered.

“I nearly busted out laughin’, had to shove a musty old pillow over my face to keep from drawing those bastards back towards me.  All I could picture was you, shaking jars of liquor around and lighting matches.”

A smile.  Small at first, but it grew from a thin line until it reached her eyes.  A real, genuine smile.  “C-can we go there?” she asked, voice breaking a bit after all the crying.

“It’s gonna need fixin’ up, sure as hell ain’t as nice as here.  But yeah, we could.”

He could see a bit of the tension release from her shoulders as she sat up straighter.  She put her arms out in front of her, stretching her limbs, opening and closing her hands and shaking them.  Then she settled her hands in her lap once more, staring off into the night.  

“One thing though, Greene.”

“Mmm?  What’s that?” she rolled her shoulders before leaning into his again.

“Gotta promise me ya won’t burn this one down.”

A snort escaped her lips and she met his eyes again, “We’ll see,” was all she gave him

He put his arm around her again, leaning his head down to breathe her in.  She wiggled closer to him, resting her cheek against the inside of his shoulder.  “We’ll see,” he repeated, feeling a mixture of relief and wonder that this moment was possible at all.  

**Author's Note:**

> There is implied trauma in here for Beth, and though it won't be the main focus of these one shots, it will play a role from time to time as they grow closer, and I'll tag accordingly. Thanks so much for reading, it's sincerely appreciated!


End file.
